Eden Sucked
by alopecia
Summary: Summer's past membership of the junior Newpsies haunt her. Oneshot.


Eden Sucked by alopecia, beta'd by FredSmith

* * *

Summer gazed out the window watching Ryan and Marissa leaving the restaurant for places other than the Harbor School campus. "Yeah, they'll be all right," she said less than certainly. She turned to Seth to judge whether he believed it. 

But Seth didn't seem to be listening. He was pushing his eggs around his plate with the point of his toast, his face pulled down in one of his glummest expressions. She had grown used to a talkative boyfriend and his quiet was disquieting.

"Cohen," she said but without the usual edge, "what's the matter? Worried about them?"

Seth's jaw tightened and he glanced at her for a long moment before letting it drift back to his breakfast. "Yeah, but I've learned my lesson and am staying out of it." He tapped his toast against the side of the plate and rocked his head a few times before asking in a fast blurt, "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" she asked confused.

"Hang out with those assholes on the water polo team? You knew what they were doing to me, didn't you?"

Summer's shoulders sagged and she bit her lip, tasting the new Sephora's Ice Pink Lip Gloss and knowing she was going to need a touch up. Shifting in her seat she took his hand holding the toast and rocked it gently from side to side. "C'mon we were what? Twelve?" she said hesitantly trying to make light of it.

Seth was silent. His eyes were hooded into narrow slits, focused exclusively on his plate.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly.

"What were you thinking when you called me names?" His voice was flat, not angry but seeming to be genuinely curious. "Death Breath Seth," he said slowly, experimentally.

"I d-" she started.

"Don't say you didn't do it," he said in a louder voice with a hint of anger now. "I was there. And it wasn't just me you hurt. All those guys in Comic Book Club that I hang with…"

"I'm sorry," she repeated her head bowed low. "I thought we were past this. I've changed, haven't I?" she asked hating how close she was to whining.

"We are," he said earnestly, "you did, I just …" She burrowed her head into his shoulder until he relaxed, accepting her gesture. He folded his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

"Want my crust?" he asked teasingly, "you know you like the crust best."

She shook her head sadly, but lifted her head to kiss him. Deeply. She was breathless before she let him go, remembering they were in a diner. His lips were slightly swollen but he had a satisfied grin on his face. She couldn't change the past but she could make him forget it, she thought.

* * *

Cindy was strutting in a small circle, the latest Manolo Blahnik design strapped around her ankles. Summer watched the other girls admiring Cindy's recent purchase, no doubt debating the best ways to accessorize it. Frankly they didn't do that much for Summer; the avocado green leather made Cindy's feet look gangrened. Summer wanted to share her snark but Marissa wasn't there, and Cohen, even if he wasn't ridiculously late to lunch, wouldn't have appreciated it.

Summer sighed. Her own 'latest' hung from her seat, a metallic Marc Jacob's only just available in stores. The bag had taken weeks of cajoling her father. Now its rich supple leather and big brassy buckles screamed how fashionable Summer was, and how much it wanted to be admired by more than just Summer.

Summer had to admit she missed the female camaraderie. She glanced at her old friends, some of whom she'd known since elementary school. They were the epitome of California living; tanned and healthy, they tossed their hair back and laughed, carefree and charmed. She didn't remember **not** being a part of the tight knit group. There was Laura Wellerford who fell off the jungle gym showing off in pre-school, Ashley Bradley who sobbed hysterically when she made junior high cheerleading, and then there was Holly who messed around with Luke when she knew it would kill Marissa. Every girl in the gaggle had stories, and Summer was there for most of them. They could be mean and bitchy but mostly they were frivolous - and let you forget there were ugly things happening in the world. And ugly things closer by, like her parents' divorce when she was in sixth grade, or when the step-monster moved in two years later.

She understood those girls too well. Being a part of the pack meant you didn't have to think, at least not deeply. Sort of like the Army without the calisthenics she thought. There weren't exact rules like don't wear Levis or read a book voluntarily, it was more like having an attitude of righteousness because you believed you were better than _them_. How you looked was more important than how you felt or behaved. And who mattered was what mattered. If you all believed you were special, then you were, and being special felt good. You just had to follow the rules, believe. And if unbelievers had to be crushed then that's what had to happen. After all, what was the point of being special if you didn't prove it to others?

What did that say about Summer? She had worried about the skinny squirrel, but hadn't worried about the skinny boy with dark curly hair being tortured by her friends. She looked down at her burger and fries and lost her appetite. She had chosen to stay in her safe, pampered world over standing up to something she knew was wrong. Mostly she had tried to ignore her pack's meanness, deny that it was happening, and only participate when her loyalty was tested in public. What a paltry excuse…

Her eyes were open to a deeper world and she felt good thinking for herself now. She couldn't go back to how it was, and didn't even want to. She missed having more friends but she didn't miss feeling bad about herself. Who knew… maybe the debate club had some cool girls there? If a girl was going to fantasize, she might as well do it big she thought.

She felt a nippy bite of a kiss at the base of her neck. She pulled away with a yelp but before she could turn, Seth swung around to sit at the table with a tray of food in front of him.

"Wassup, shorty?" he asked.

"Umm lunch? That we only have ten more minutes left for. Where were you?" Despite her words she was thinking of how much she loved his lopsided grin and hair that went every which way.

"Mr. Schmidt's mole got a twitch, and he wanted me to stay after and talk it off the ledge."

Summer was skeptical but decided to choose her battles judiciously. "Those shoes are probably worth more than five hundred dollars," she said with bitterness gesturing with her head to the group of girls.

"No just standard Chuck Taylor's."

Summer frowned in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. What are you talking about?" Seth asked and began to whistle, looking into the air nonchalantly. "Do you want to see the new penguin movie tonight? They're tougher than they look."

Summer looked under the table. "What are on your feet?" she asked shrilly.

"They are shod with shoes," he explained pedantically.

"Well, they aren't what you were wearing this morning."

"Like I said, I got me some new kicks at Fashion Island during my study period. I'm styling," he said boastfully.

"So they are the trendiest, hmm? Jimmy Choo's maybe?" she guessed sarcastically.

"Chuckie's, Summer, not Choo's," Seth corrected her. "Let's not go there; we were there this morning. Let's say we trip the night fantastic instead? These new shoes are awesome." Seth stood up and offered his hand in a ballroom dancer's pose.

Summer glared at him instead, and Seth sat back down in defeat.

"Did the water polo team start up again?" Summer asked softly.

"Jimmy Choo doesn't carry a men's footwear line. Although with this recent wave of fashion house consolidations, who knows who owns what anymore? I mean Stella McCartney at Gucci? C'mon," Seth said then hit himself on the forehead, "and why do I know those minty factoids?"

Summer ignored his chatter. She had never felt more badly or helpless.

"It's small stuff, doesn't matter. In the scheme of world poverty and war it doesn't even rate," Seth said earnestly, "I've got you. I've got Ryan. I've even got The Coop." He tried to take her hands into his but she pulled away.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He began to rub an apple against his shirt.

"Don't call her Coop. It creeps her out." Summer grabbed the apple from him and held in front of her, eyeing it keenly.

Seth asked sarcastically, "Uh, would you like my apple?"

"It tastes good," Summer said with a knowing smile.

"But you haven't actually taken a bite yet."

"Oh, I've taken plenty of bites. It can be bitter but worth it." She looked directly into Seth's eyes. "Eden sucked; the people are all bitchy, the guys are goons and I'm not going back."

"My God, it's spreading. Summer, step away from the ledge. Put down the apple. You're safe here."

"Shut up, Cohen. Penguin movie, huh?"


End file.
